kitipurr

Stargate SG-7: Part Three

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Part Two: Back


"Chris, how are you doing?"

"You're asking me?" Chris asked, studying the man sitting on the infirmary table. "You're the one who was held in an alien prison for days, and then a week after escaping that got trapped in a virtual reality loop."

"Eh, it happens occasionally," Jack replied casually. Chris cocked an eyebrow, but didn't push further. He was vaguely familiar with the time Jack had spent in prison in Iraq, and could only imagine the recent experiences had brought back some less-than-pleasant memories. Then a week later to have to relive an old friend's death over and over... "How's the formation of your team progressing? I would have thought you'd have gone on your first as-team training mission by now."

"Yeah, well, Hammond seems set on us having at least four members," Chris sighed. "I haven't found a fourth person I think I can spend this much time with without wanting to smack them around."

"But Chris, you're such a tolerant, patient human being," Jack teased.

"Yeah, well, ya know, we humans get less sufferable was we get older." Chris stepped aside as Doctor Fraiser moved in to take a blood sample.

"With the exception of some bumps and bruises, you seem okay," the pretty doctor said lightly. "But I'm ordering the entire team to take at least a week off after this. Daniel's still got a sore neck and throat from his experience on Hadante, and all of you have some puncture wounds from those machines, and I won't even bother to bring up the emotional stress he and you experienced with the Keeper's little games."

"I'm fine," Jack countered.

"Of course you are," Janet said in a tone that said she didn't believe him. "Not to mention you could all stand to eat some decent food for a few meals."

"So you're ordering us off-base?" Jack said hopefully.

"So I'm ordering you off-base," Fraiser chuckled. "If you want, I'll even order you to have a nice barbeque with all the fixings, so long as I get invited."

"Hey, there's a Cubs-Mets double-header on tomorrow starting at one," Chris suggested.

Jack brightened even more. "Great! Battle of the Underdogs!"

"Shall I bring the beer?"

Jack's energy was returning in spades. "Bring Wilmington, too. Doc, you're invited so long as you bring a big pan of your potato salad." Jack looked to Chris eagerly. "She makes this potato salad with mustard and little bits of celery and egg that is just to die for." Chris chuckled as the colonel looked back to his doctor. "You can even bring that guy from the hospital you've been seeing."

"We're not dating," the pert woman argued. "He's been helping me with the tests we've been running on Teal'c's blood."

"Whatever, you've been spending an awful lot of time with him," Jack asked. Chris shook his head; sometimes Jack could be nosier than an old blue-hair.

"He's very helpful," Janet said patiently. "Besides, if you must know, he's married. Has a lovely wife named Raine."

"Well, bring him anyway," Jack said. "Tell you what, you can even bring his wife." Jack looked at Chris knowingly. "If she exists."

Janet chuckled and shook her head. "For that, not only will I bring Nathan, AND Raine, but I'll ask Raine to bring this peanut butter fudge she makes."

"Oooh, peanut butter fudge," Jack said, nearly drooling. "That's not fair, cuz when she turns out to be a figment of your imagination, so will the fudge!"

Chris laughed as Janet smacked Jack lightly on the back of the head and walked away. "Okay, so anything I can bring besides Buck and beer?"

"*Lots* of beer would be nice," Jack said, climbing off the table and buttoning up his shirt. "And sodas - I think just Coke and Diet Coke, maybe two cases of the first, one of the second. Maybe some chips? I have a feeling by the time we get done we'll have about a dozen people or so. Janet will bring her daughter Cassie, and Sam's been dating Captain Russell from Team Six."

The colonel considered as he pulled on his shoes. "Of course we'll have to invite the general, and since Major Kovacek is still in town I should probably ask him, seeing how he was valiant in his efforts to try to get the Taldor to release us and all. Oh, and you should bring Sanchez, right? New member of your team and all, would be rude not to invite him. Oh hey, ask him to bring his chili - rumor has it he makes a chili that will eat through the Tupperware."

"Okay, so beer, soda, chips, and chili," Chris nodded. "I assume you're going to get the hamburgers and hot dogs?"

"Daniel will bring a huge salad, but it's actually tasty. He tosses it with this Italian dressing that makes the rabbit food edible."

"And Sam?"

"Sam brings cookies," Jack grinned in anticipation. "Made from scratch, sinfully delicious chocolate chip cookies."

"I take it these are worth skipping the salad for," Chris laughed.

"Oh, you'd sell your own mother for one of these things," Jack smiled dreamily.

"What about Teal'c?"

"He'll bring shrimp."

"Shrimp?"

"He's got a serious thing for shrimp," Jack said. "Carter once said that if the Goa'uld ever wanted to convince Teal'c to betray us and go back to their side, all they'd have to do is offer him permanent assignment on Earth with all the shrimp he could eat. You should have seen his eyes light up the day he saw a Red Lobster commercial for Shrimpfest."

Chris chuckled. "Alrighty then, let's go shopping."

***

The weather was perfect for a barbeque - nothing like July in Colorado Springs, Jack thought as he leaned back with his beer. Earlier in the day the both the yard and the living room had been filled with good friends and excellent food. The twelve had balloon into about thirty after friends of friends had been added to the party list, but that had only made for more variety at the table and more people to chat with as you moved from the baseball game in the living room to the backyard picnic.

An hour after the last pitch much of the group had petered out, leaving only a small handful of friends. Janet and the very non-fictional Raine Lone Tree-Jackson were with Cassandra at the far end of the sofa playing a word game while Sam, JD, Josiah and Daniel were having a vigorous discussion about some scientific theory. That left Buck, Chris and Nathan with Jack arguing the most minute aspects of the game, while Teal'c sat with them looking thoroughly confused at the entire debate.

Jack couldn't remember feeling this comfortable in a long time.

"I don't agree," Nathan was saying, gesturing avidly with his beer. "Instead of watching baseball players we're stuck watching a bunch of specialized athletes. Every man on the field should be required to play both the offense and the defense."

"Pitchers are necessarily special," Buck countered. "And they get paid for that specialty, to perfect that specialty. Why should they waste time practicing batting when they aren't ever going to be anything more than adequate, and in the meantime be distracted from their actual job?"

"The designated hitter removes the need for strategy," Jack said firmly. "Instead of planning your defense and offense based on the strengths and weaknesses of all nine players involved, you simply heavy-weight your batting line up and stick in a ringer for the inevitably weakest link."

"It's no different than the place kicker in football, is it?" Buck asked. "Or the special rules for the goalie in soccer and hockey? Why not have completely separate offensive and defensive teams in baseball like you do in football?"

"How can you say that?" Chris asked, incredulous. "Nathan, Jack, I have to apologize for Buck and his insane ideas. It's not really his fault - his mother raised him a Royals fan and had a huge crush on George Brett. If he wasn't so cute we'd have locked him away years ago to save the world from his radicalism."

"I am not...! I simply realize that as the world changes so should the game!"

"Baseball is one of the last remaining staples of pure American creation, Buck," Chris sighed. "The whole point of the game is the balance of nine players against nine players, the combinations of skill levels in the various requirements."

"The designated hitter improves the overall quality of the game," Buck said firmly. "Offensively it means that a manager doesn't have to coordinate his batting line around an obvious easy out. Defensively, it allows the manger to put out his best field team and hire pitchers for their throwing arm while not having to worry if he's going to cut into his offensive strategy. And is it really so wrong to have a rule that allows you to protect your pitcher - the most valuable player on any baseball team - from the inevitability of injuries that come from running bases?"

"Why not have a designated runner for the catcher, to protect his knees? Why not be able to put in anyone who's better than the other player? Why not have a designated free thrower for when Shaq gets hacked, so we don't have to watch the big man waste time at the free throw line?" Nathan asked, shaking his head.

"Buck, face it, when it comes to opinions on sports, you're a lunatic." Chris chuckled as he handed Buck another beer.

"I just happen to think the DH is a good idea," Buck groused.

"And we forgive you for being completely wrong," Chris said sympathetically, patting his friend's knee. "So," he said in a voice that said he was changing the subject. "Nate, you're a doctor at the Air Force Academy Hospital?"

"Yeah, both Raine and I are," Nathan nodded. "I've also done some research work for Janet in the base labs; we have SGC clearance and have stepped in when Janet and Doctor Warner needed some backup support."

"So I understand," Chris said. "Josiah's had a number of good things to say about you. I understand you've seen some field time as well? On Earth, at least."

"I put myself through school on the GI Bill," Nathan replied. "And I'm still in the Army reserves."

"We've called him in a few times when we've needed a medical expert on a mission," Jack mentioned. "Nathan's been to four different worlds now on medical containment assignments."

"I thought all people with gate-travel clearance were assigned full-time to the base operations," Buck asked.

"That's preferred," Jack said. "But with the medical support staff and research people it's just not always practical."

"Think of it like a brain surgeon," Nathan suggested. "You wouldn't have him just sitting around waiting for a brain to work on, and not let him go off somewhere and do something else while he's waiting."

"Makes sense," Chris nodded. "But isn't that a security risk?"

"Not any more than it would have been to let you wander back to your ranch after the tour," Jack replied. "Anyone called in has been thoroughly vetted before they're allowed any information about the Stargate project. In the rare case that we feel we need the help of someone who doesn't pass clearance, someone like Nathan is called in to liaise between that person and the program, so that the non-cleared person can accomplish what we need from them without the project being compromised."

"Sounds tricky," Buck said.

"You have no idea," Nathan sighed. "We actually had that experience fairly early on in the active missions' roster - one of the guys on Team Six got accidentally zapped with some weird alien device that caused his heart to nearly solidify. We had an antidote, provided by the same aliens who created the original device, but it had to be administrated directly into the heart in a very particular way that required an extremely experienced heart surgeon. Just imagine trying to explain to a doctor with years of experience beyond anything I have that this is the way to solve the problem, without explaining what the problem was or how we were sure this was the solution."

"Can't think it went over too well," Chris said.

"Not really," Nathan chuckled. "I got a lot of 'what can you possibly know about this' and 'how dare you deem to think you can tell me what to do'. Was a little tiring."

Jack watched as Chris and Buck engaged Nathan in some of the particulars of his missions, which Jack knew had mostly been benign second-contact situations and cleanup-type trips. Josiah had mentioned - rather casually, but frequently enough to be noticeably - that he thought Nathan Jackson was an overlooked gem of the Stargate staff, but Jack had to admit that he had never really thought about what else the man could be used for. After all, Nathan Jackson was a doctor. A good guy, fast on his feet, smart as a whip and all that; like Janet and several other members of the civilian contingent, he had stepped up in several situations to prove himself more than just a scientist or doctor. In the end, though, he was just a doctor. Right?

But now as he sat listening to the man talk, sharing stories of his military experience with two other veterans of action, Jack was beginning to get a new look at the tall doctor. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Josiah watching them, smiling that knowing smile the man got when other people were finally catching up to something he had known all along, and Jack found himself smiling back. A glance at how caught up Chris and Buck were with the man, comparing encounters and tactical ideas on how previous missions could have been handled better, theoreticals on how to deal with the Goa'uld in different situations, and Jack was sure that Nathan would be receiving an invitation to Team Seven.

Even if he had to kick the point home with Chris Larabee.

***

Ezra leaned against the back of the door as it closed, thrilled beyond belief that after just over a week he was finally making progress on his objectives. This morning he had been able to engage the delightful Master Sergeant Reyanne Colleschi in conversation and the discussion had been enlightening. The sergeant had recently been tapped to offer a tour of the facilities to some key congressman and she was terribly nervous about making a good impression; Ezra had immediately offered to critique her intended presentation by pretending to be totally ignorant of the facilities. She had jumped at the chance.

What had followed had been one of the most fantastic stories he had ever heard, and it made many of the little drips and drabs he had picked up over the past week make a lot more sense. It was all so utterly fantastic, but at the same time it was now becoming real; and it was now completely understandable why the intelligence community would be royally pissed about being shut out.

And now that he had managed to snag a security card from one of the cleaning crew, he was ready to move.

Earlier today he had heard that a large number of the major players on the base were heading out for the day to a party at Colonel O'Neill's house. Taking advantage of that, he had let himself into Doctor Jackson's office and snapped photographs of as many pages of the linguist's notebooks as he could (who in this day and age still wrote long-hand?) and then worked his way on to Captain Carter's office to download most of her data onto several memory chips.

He just made the mistake of looking at the stuff and trying to make it make sense.

"Hey, are you supposed to be in here?"

Ezra looked up to see the face of the young airman he had encountered on his very first day on the base - Downy? Donner? Dunne, maybe Wasn't the kid supposed to have gone to the party? His eyes flickered to the clock and he realized a lot more time had passed than he had realized; it was nearly ten-thirty at night.

Crap.

"Yes, Airman, it's alright," he said with as much confidence as he could exude. "The captain offered me access to her files so that I could make the best presentation to Senator Kinsey." He was so glad Colleschi had a perchant for name-dropping.

"Oh, I didn't realize," the young man said nervously. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Well, I was just reading over the basic rules of using the dialing computer in order to try to determine if there are any possibilities for streamlining the process, making it more cost efficient."

"The dialing sequence?" Dunne frowned, and Ezra hoped he hadn't misunderstood Colleschi's lecture points. "Well, it's all done by computer so I can't imagine you can save any money there."

"It's entirely done by the computer?" Ezra frowned, his mind racing. "Why did I think there was a physical element involved in the chevron locking process?"

"Well, I guess you could say the actual process of the gate itself locking the sequence is physical, but there's nothing you can do to change that," the boy said thoughtfully. Ezra was pleased to see that the kid's intellectual tendencies had diverted his attention from the question of his presence in the captain's office so quickly. "I mean, it's like watering a lawn with a hose. If the computer is controlling turning on the water and directing where the hose is directed, you still can't get away from the fact that the water has to physically move through the hose."

Ezra blinked; he wasn't entirely sure he understood the analogy, but so long as the kid thought he was making sense it didn't really matter. "Okay, maybe I'm misunderstanding all this. Why don't you run me through a typical dialing sequence?"

"Uh, well," Dunne said. "I don't know if you'll totally get it just on the computer. Maybe you should ask General Hammond to let you sit with Sergeant Davis on an actual dialing launch. I'm kind of surprised he hasn't had you do that already - that and the base tour are usually the first things he does with government representatives."

"It just hasn't been convenient yet," Ezra said. "Being just a minor underling filling in for the real liaison hasn't exactly made me a high priority on the General's schedule. Though I suppose you're correct. Perhaps I should push the issue. But I won't be able to ask General Hammond at least until tomorrow, and I have to submit a report on this tonight, so could you do me the favor of just giving me a theoretical lesson? Just a basic tutorial - how it works, how you operate it, that sort of thing. That way when I get to observe a true dialing, I'll have a point of reference."

"Of course, sir," Dunne said, nodding respectfully. Ezra smiled warmly, knowing it would encourage the young man to be the most helpful he could be.

Every day he thanked god for the military's unnatural training of following the orders and requests of a superior officer without thinking about it.

***

Sam yawned as she waved to the duty sergeant at the check in desk. JD had caught a ride back to the base with Janet and Teal'c hours ago, saying he wanted to finish one of his simulations, but she had opted to stay on after Raine had offered a recipe exchange of her fudge for Sam's cookies. Then had come the men's shouting match over Mike Piazza verses Sammy Sosa, which she had completely not followed at all but apparently Raine had found terribly amusing. Finally, nearly two hours after JD had left, Nathan had chased them all out in following with Janet's parting orders to 'not stay too late' and 'get some rest'.

Daniel and Josiah had stayed to help Jack clean up before heading home themselves, so since Sam had ridden with JD to the party she had caught a ride back to the mountain with Chris and Buck. She had planned to run a few more tests on some samples in her lab before going to bed, however now that she was actually back on base the exhaustion of a long enjoyable day was catching up.

"Going back to the lab, ma'am?"

She glanced up from signing in at the front desk to see Airman Weaver, one of the evening guards of the lab, coming off duty. "Just for a minute, then I'm going to crash in the barracks. Did JD sign in?"

"Yes ma'am, I think I saw him in your office with that new major from the appropriations committee."

"Major?" Sam frowned. "I don't think I've met a new major." She glanced at Chris and Buck, who shrugged and shook their heads.

"Yeah, Major Donovan. He's been here maybe a week now?" the airman shrugged. "Nice enough guy, really." The man frowned. "I'm surprised you haven't been introduced."

"I'll have to ask General Hammond," Sam said, puzzled. She glanced at Chris and Buck. "I would have thought he'd at least have mentioned a new senate liaison."

"Might have skipped his mind with everything going on around here," Chris suggested.

"Yeah, probably," Weaver nodded. "I mean, he was only arrived while you were off on the prison planet; trying to get you guys back was pretty much the priority at the moment. Then when you guys came back and debriefed, then ended up on the VR world, and team four came back from P8A-249 with that chicken pox-like illness and all..." She trailed off, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Well, just not surprising it didn't come up."

"Probably didn't want to bother you with more politics," Buck agreed. "Would have thought he'd have mentioned it to Chris though."

"Buck, our team hasn't officially been formed yet," Chris replied. "I doubt I rate an introduction to the politicos. But he's right, Sam, you've been a little busy lately."

"Good point," Sam conceded. "Maybe I'll stick my head in before I hit the sack."

Sam trudged to the elevator with the two men behind her, and was surprised when the door opened to reveal General Hammond on his way out. "Good evening, sir, I thought you went straight home from the barbeque."

"I did," Hammond grumbled. "Then I got called back by Major Dorry because she forgot to have me sign about six million forms before I left this morning."

Sam chuckled. "I know you're friends with her father, sir, but perhaps you should consider reassigning her to something that requires less responsibility?"

"The only thing I could reassign her to would be janitorial duty, and that would be an insult to her father," Hammond sighed. "I'm thinking about trying to get her assigned to Senator Kinsey's office. That could work in our favor."

"Speaking of the Senator, Weaver mentioned we've been hosting a new liaison to his office?"

Hammond looked at her, puzzled. "Not that I was aware of."

Sam cocked her head. "Weaver said he's been here about a week now. He's currently with JD in... my office."

The two looked at each other for a moment, their alarm growing. Then the general reached for the nearest phone.

"This is General Hammond. I want this Major who's saying he's a liaison to the Senate brought to me immediately. He is to be considered a hostile intruder until I say otherwise."

"General, with your permission I'm going to run down to my office and check if he and JD are still there," Sam said nervously. "If this man's an intruder, JD could be in trouble."

"We'll come with you," Buck said firmly.

"Back up can't hurt," Chris added, glancing at the general for approval, which was given immediately.

Sam nodded and headed into the elevator, the men following behind her. She pushed the button for twenty-one, resisting the urge to push it repeatedly in the vain hopes it might make the elevator go faster.

She could only hope her fears were unwarranted.

***

Ezra studied the computer carefully. Airman Dunne had been incredibly helpful, giving him a complete demonstration of how the dialing computer worked by running a typical embarkation simulation. Of course, the kid hadn't realized that the entire demonstration was being downloaded directly onto disc as it ran. At the rate he was collecting information this evening, he could leave and feel confident he had achieved his goals. Later this evening he would activate the data transmitters he had installed on the inter-base network and then slip out the small ventilation shaft which had been his access into the base.

JD was chattering on energetically in a way that made Ezra a little remorseful. Odds were the senior officers would hold the kid responsible once the break-in was discovered; Ezra regretted that, since it certainly wasn't the kid's fault that he was the best thief and con man in the business. Well, hopefully it would be a long time before the SGC realized there had been an infiltration and wouldn't be able to pin-point exactly when it had happened, thus the kid would be free of the blame.

"Thank you, Airman Dunne, this has been most enlightening," he said as he slipped the computer disks into the briefcase he was using as part of his costume. "I wish I could stay longer and have you run a few more examples for me, but I'm afraid I have another meeting early in the morning and should get at least two or three hours of sleep."

"I understand," Dunne nodded, smiling. "Thank you for the opportunity to work with you, sir. It's been a big honor."

"You've got real promise, son," Ezra chuckled. "I expect I'll be hearing more from you in the future; don't disappoint me."

"Yes sir!" JD said, snapping to attention and saluting smartly. Ezra saluted back and slipped out the door, striding down the hall with confidence and satisfaction. In a little over two days, he would be enjoying mai tais on a private island resort off the coast of Bali with the rewards of this little venture.

He was practically skipping inside as he slipped into his last targeted room, the artifacts storage room. He didn't need anything else to satisfy Maybourne's agenda, but wanted to make a rubbing of a particular tablet he had found fascinating during his earlier snooping. He was in the process of closing the door behind him when a conversation floating up the hall stopped in him in tracks.

"If he's been here a whole week there's no knowing what he's managed to gain access to," a deep voice was saying, a voice Ezra recognized as that of General Hammond, the base commander. A peek out the nearly-closed door showed the general stumping by with a small squad of underlings in tow as he barked. "We need to find this man and find out what he knows and who he works for. I want the entire base on lockdown until he's under warps and we've done a full sweep for any signs of sabotage. He's been passing himself as a Major and has been seen mostly in the mess and research facilities so far, but that doesn't mean he hasn't gotten into the mainframes or systems. I want a complete review of all security tapes over the last two weeks, I want to know how he got in, every place he's been, and I want to interview everyone he's talked to. Consider this a foothold situation, people!"

Ezra quietly closed the door and sighed, leaning his head against the door. There was no question - they had to be talking about him. Time was up, he had to get out of here now.

He waited for the hall to quiet down again; apparently a general alarm was not going to be sounded, probably on the idea that they could catch him off-guard. Ezra bit his lip and carefully stripped off his major's jacket, leaving him only in his black tee and pants. At this time of night it would be believable on a secured base such as this to find minor staff wandering out of regular uniform, and he would use that to his advantage. He removed the computer disks and digital camera and slipped them into his pockets and down the back of his underwear. Finally he rumpled his hair and mussed his shirt and pants, hoping to resemble someone who had crawled out of bed in search of a midnight snack, at least until he could find a uniform bay and get a complete change of costume - maybe a staff sergeant or a senior airman, something nice and low and unimportant.

He wandered down the hall, relieved to not run into anyone he knew until he snuck into the small locker room at the end of the hall. There he was relieved to find several laundry bins with marked bags, which he searched through until finding one marked 'S. Johnson'. Nice common name, and with at least 300 on-site staff the odds were there were at least four or five on base. Who would notice one more? He opened the bag, sniffing in disgust when he realized this was the dirty laundry, but was relieved that this Johnson person was a nice lowly technical sergeant. He sighed as he pulled the dirty rumpled uniform shirt over his tee and traded his smart khaki slacks for the dirty black military fatigues he found in the bag. Most important was the hat, which he pulled over his hair, trying to carefully tuck in every curl in the hopes of appearing to have a much shorter cut. Then once again, he ducked carefully back into the hall and continued on his way.

"Sergeant?"

Ezra glanced left to the voice that called to him from the hall he was passing; his eyes flickered quickly to the pocket, thankful for the military's need to put names on uniforms. "Yes, Captain Carter?"

The pretty woman stepped up to him; behind her stood the tall ladies' man he had seen flirting with the ladies in the mess, and a blond man he hadn't seen before. "Sergeant," the woman said, "have you seen Major Donovan?"

Ezra put on a frown. "The guy from the appropriations committee? I saw him a few hours ago in the mess playing checkers with Rommak, but I've been sacked out since then. Just got up a little while ago."

"Keep an eye out," the blond man said sternly. "He's an imposter. If you see him, try to apprehend him but use caution."

"An imposter, sir?" Ezra blinked, hoping he looked confused and less-than-quick-witted.

"We aren't sure of anything at the moment, Sergeant," Carter told him. "Don't take any chances."

"Yes ma'am," Ezra said, snapping a sharp salute. He stepped to the side as the trio continued on down the hall. As soon as then were far enough along, he continued on his way, stepping up his pace.

***

"John!"

The airman looked up as Sam entered the room with Buck and Chris behind her. It had taken longer than he thought to close down the computers and straighten up after his demonstrations, but he was done enough that he didn't feel embarrassed. "Hey Sam. I'm surprised you're still up."

"Just got back from Jack's house. I heard you were showing Major Donovan around?"

"Yeah," JD nodded. "He asked for a demonstration of how the dialing computer works, so he had a practical experience to go with his notes. I think he actually understands the process now." JD smiled proudly. "He said I showed real promise, Sam! You think maybe he'll put in a good word for me with the general? Maybe I'll get a chance at being on a field team after all?"

Sam put her hands firmly on her cousin's shoulders. "John, do you know where the major went?"

"Uh, he mentioned he was going to grab some sleep," JD frowned. "He only left about ten minutes ago."

"Ten minutes ago?" Chris shook his head. "Ten minutes is like ten hours around here. He could be anywhere."

"Well, we're turning out the base to look for him," Buck shrugged. "Can't get that far, can he?"

"He can if he manages to avoid anyone who knows what he looks like," Sam sighed. "John, what exactly does he look like?"

"Major Donovan?" JD cocked his head. "What's going on, Sam?"

"JD, we think that Major Donovan is an imposter," Chris said. "Supposedly he's the new senate appropriations liaison, except General Hammond's never met him and was unaware that we had a new liaison."

JD shook his head. "No, that can't be right. The man is so knowledgeable about everything..."

"He's a good con artist, kid," Buck said simply. "He conned a lot of people, if he's been here a whole week and not been caught up till now."

"Geez," JD breathed as it all caught up to him. "Sam, he knows how to work the computers, he knows tons about the network, I know he's spent hours in the research labs with Jacobs and Lodanis..."

"Man's been busy," Chris growled. "So let's find him and find out exactly what he's in this for."

"John, report to General Hammond, tell him what you know," Sam said. "Be careful - if you run into the man again, don't let on you know he's a fraud and don't try to take him down yourself. Just find an MP on the double, you got it?" JD gulped but nodded solemnly, then watched as the trio left.

"I can't believe he conned me," JD said to himself. He took in a deep breath to steady himself, his mind racing with ideas of just how bad this could be. How many top secret things had he just handed over to the man? "So much for getting to be part of a field team," he muttered darkly. "I'll be lucky if I don't end up in the stockade for the rest of my life."

Shoring up his nerves, JD started out into the hall. He had only been to General Hammond's office once, when he was first assigned to the SGC. Most enlisted personnel didn't even get that, but as Samantha Carter's cousin the general had made time to welcome him. Since then he had only seen the general in passing, all his reports going through either his cousin or one of the senior researchers. As such, JD still found the Commander in Chief extremely intimidating.

Having Sam send him to report directly was worse than being sent to the principal's office in second grade.

He turned down the C hallway just as he saw a man reaching the stairwell. After spending the last two hours with the man, JD knew exactly who he was looking at. Except now the 'major' was dressed as a sergeant. JD narrowed his eyes as he glanced around - there was no one in sight. He shook himself and decided to follow.

***

Ezra slipped into the backup computer room, looking around quickly. If he could get everyone's attentions distracted, he could make his escape. The best way he could think of would be to activate the Stargate. The gate room was on one of the lowest levels of the facility; if he could draw most of the personnel down to the gate room by engaging the dialing computer, he could get up to his ventilation shaft and out without being noticed. He would have to activate the network bugs remotely, but he had planned for that possibility. All he had to do was get out.

Working feverishly, he skirted the security protocols for the dialing programs. It would take a bit for the bug Ezra was uploading to take affect, but in just under ten minutes the computer should start the sequence and chaos would ensue. That was all the time he would need to make his getaway.

"So you're an imposter, huh?"

Ezra's head jerked as he heard a hard voice over his shoulder. He was surprised to see young Airman Dunne as the speaker - he would never have believed the kid capable of so harsh a tone.

"What are you up to?" the kid asked, stepping closer, trying to look threatening. Ezra hesitated; in the hours he had spent with Dunne he had, much to his own dismay, developed a true admiration for the youth. The boy had mentioned, as casually as a kid that age was able, how much he wanted to someday be a part of a field team just like his cousin, and Ezra had found himself envious of the boy's optimism, ambition and spirit. It had been so long since he had had that sort of belief in his future...

"Look, I'm just doing my job," Ezra said carefully. He couldn't see any weapons but that didn't mean the boy wasn't a threat. He had at least passed basic training, and even though he was a scientist it was easy to see the kid had some muscle on his bones. If he planned to get on a field team, he would be keeping in good physical condition at the very least. "My job was to test the security of the facility, how easy it would be to break in and steal information."

"Why don't I believe you?" Dunne replied. "But if that's the case, then you and I are going to go see the General together and you can explain yourself to him."

Ezra shook his head. So much for his bluff; the kid wasn't as naive as he'd hoped. "Look, I don't want you involved in this; you're a nice kid..."

"You don't want me involved?" Dunne growled, stepping closer. "You involved me the minute you suckered me into downloading all that top secret information onto computer disks you could sneak out of here! God, I'm so stupid!"

"No, you're not," Ezra said, wondering why on earth he wasn't just getting the hell out of Dodge. "I'm just really, really good at what I do, okay?"

"I completely bought your act!" Dunne hissed, turning to slap the door frame. "I helped you! And now I'm going to be the one who turns you in so I can get my butt out of the sling!"

Ezra sighed, he really wished he could have avoided this. "Dunne, I'm sorry that you got pulled into this, really. But if it makes you feel better? You're not the only one." He stepped forward, a small step, his hands out as he tried to appear harmless. "And I wish I could make it up to you..."

Dunne turned his eyes up at Ezra's soft tones, just as Ezra's open palm suddenly shaped a fist and swung in. The boy moved to duck, but in the process Ezra snaked his foot in to yank knock Dunne off balance by the ankle. The kid toppled over, and Ezra ran like hell.

***

Chris and Buck tagged behind Sam until she arrived at the monitoring station on level twenty-two. The Captain was in prime 'take charge' mode, a position Chris was used to being in and by rank might have claimed easily with the exception that he was too new to the base to receive the base staff's instantaneous obedience. Carter, on the other hand, had no such problem, something that spoke highly of the young woman. Chris was impressed as he watched her issue orders, directing the base personnel in the search with precision he would not have expected in a scientist. Then again, he reminded himself, she was also career military.

And then the gate alarms sounded.

"What now?" Chris growled.

"Captain, the computer is attempting to dial out," the technician named Davis announced over the intercom.

Sam hit the com switch. "Who's running it?"

"No one that I can tell, ma'am. It appears to have just started up by itself."

"Can you shut it down?"

There was a small pause before Davis replied, "No ma'am, it appears to have locked out any manual override."

"What does that mean?" Buck asked.

"It means the gate's going to open and there's nothing we can do about it," Sam hissed.

"The work of our intruder?" Chris suggested. "But why would he do that?"

Sam turned back to the intercom. "Davis, do we know what world is being dialed?" The 'kawoosh' sound let them know that the gate had completed its connection and was now wide open for transport.

"It's not a set of coordinates I've called up before, ma'am."

"Great," Sam sighed. She glanced at the viewing window. "Well, I suppose we should call a squad in to guard the gate room. We can at least insure that wherever he's dialing, he doesn't get the opportunity to get there."

Buck stepped over to the window, then shook his head. "Um."

Chris and Sam glanced at each other before hurrying to the window. The scene below was surprising; JD Dunne, Airman E-2 and scientist, was involved in a rolling fist fight with the sergeant they had encountered earlier. The three spent a moment blinking at the picture for a moment.

"Major Donovan?" Buck asked.

"He traded clothes," Sam said. "I talked right to him. I just assumed it couldn't be him because he was the wrong rank Why didn't it occur to me the guy might change clothes?"

"You're not a con artist," Chris replied. "Don't feel bad, didn't occur to us either."

They watched as JD struggled with the intruder, who appeared to be doing his best to simply stave off the obviously irate youth.

"Crap," Sam growled. She reached for the base intercom. "Squadron to the gate room, on the double! The intruder is in the gate room!" She stared back down at the room. "Damn it, John Daniel! What part of 'don't do it yourself' didn't you understand?" She started for the stairs, with Chris and Buck in tow.

***

Ezra ducked as the youth threw another punch in his direction. Who would have thought a lab rat would have such notable fighting skills or such a wicked left hook?

Or be able to get quite so mad...

Ezra darted left as Dunne charged again, looking around wildly, trying to figure out a plan of action. He had originally intended to head up to level thirteen and out his escape route, however that option was cut out when he realized - belatedly, unfortunately - that one of the first actions when the gate was activated was an automatic general lockdown of all stairwells and elevators until the threat level was determined. Considering that Dunne was hot on his tail, and levels nineteen and twenty were separated by another locked doorway, he had no choice but to head down.

He had tried every door on the way down, barely staying ahead of the boy most of the time, occasionally not even. By the time the doors would open again, he was all the way down to the gate room level and had taken a half-dozen good punches on the times the kid had caught up to him. The kid had barely a scratch on him by comparison, but then, while he was out for Ezra's blood Ezra was trying his best not to harm his opponent.

Figured that little speck of conscience would rear its ugly head at the worst possible moment, Ezra thought ruefully.

He hadn't even realized where he was when he stumbled into the gate room, so engrossed was he in his defense, until Dunne's flying tackle flattened him at the moment of a sudden rumbling. There was a swooshing noise and Ezra felt the air pressure just over his head change dramatically as out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of bright white; only then did he realize he had been standing directly in the line of the vortex. Had the young Airman not pushed him to safety, he would be dead by now.

As the vortex receded he found himself rolling down the ramp with the stocky youth wailing at him with short jabs to the stomach. Ezra struggled to roll them over and push away from the kid. He moved to run for the door, but the airman dove at him again and he stumbled, falling sideways up the ramp. Resigned that he was going to have to throw at least one punch to get away from the kid, Ezra pulled away just enough to aim one shot at the kid's jaw. Unfortunately the kid saw his aim and turned so that his punch just skimmed Dunne's jaw.

More unfortunately, that was enough to spark the kid's anger into a pure rage and Dunne dove at him with a vengeance.

And then the world when crazy.

***

"NO!"

Sam pressed against the observation glass as the two combatants below fell into the event horizon; seconds later, the wormhole closed behind them. She stared, disbelieving, at the room that now housed only a few armed guards who had entered during the fight but been unable to intervene in time. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Buck Wilmington's solemn face.

"We'll go after him," the man told her. "Chris had already gone to the dialing room to get Davis to bring up the coordinates."

"I don't know that planet," Sam said, trying to steel herself. "It's not been charted, not even been MALPed."

Buck nodded, understanding her fears; JD and the intruder had just tumbled through to a completely unknown situation. It was possible the planet had no oxygen or an intolerable atmosphere for humans. They could have landed in the middle of a Goa'uld stronghold or other hostile alien state of affairs, or they could have gone through to a buried gate. Bottom line, even if a rescue was launched in minutes, it might already be too late; they might already be dead.

"Come on, Captain," he said gently. "Best we can do is organize fast and hope. Don't give up until we have to."

Sam looked up into the naval officer's deep blue eyes and found the resolution she couldn't seem to find in herself. She let him pull her into a gentle hug, leaning against the tall strong body and allowing herself a moment of fear before she shook it off and strode for the door. She knew the man who had such a fondness for her cousin would be right behind her.

They had a rescue operation to plan.

***

How many years now had he been coming to this spot? Since he first came to live with the clan, probably, about once or twice a season. These days though, not a cycle of the moon went by that he didn't spend at least one night sitting on this ridge, staring up at the night sky. The Heavenly Fires twinkled particularly brightly tonight, winking at him as if they had secrets to tell, and in the light of the Night Mother in her Full Figure the wide plain glittered, its sands reflecting Mother's shining love as though alive in their own right.

Tonight the East Wind blew a mild chill, promising rain in coming days which was badly needed this season. The gardens had been getting too dry, and Carkoa and the other wives had been worried their harvest would be scarce and that would make the Season of the Dead a hard one for their people. If East Wind delivered his promise, the gardens would flourish again and the harvest would likely be bountiful. For that, he offered his silent thanks to the Sky Spirits who influence East Wind's decisions.

He pulled his blanket around him and added another handful of wisdom-plant to his small smoldering fire, taking a deep breath as the herb permeated the air and soothed his soul. He loved his adopted family and always would, but still after so many years he did not feel completely at peace among them. Rica-talma had never treated him as anything less than a full-blood son, his wife and children the same, but still he knew he could not remain with them forever. He was not of their skin, no matter that he wear their shrifts and adorn himself in their customs. His hair was not dark enough, his eyes blue instead of brown. No matter how much he loved his life here, he did not belong.

And so here he came from time to time. Here by the Great Mystic Ocean, that which had given him birth as a small child. He sought guidance from the womb, but always it remained silent, unspeaking. Old Kalasana, the story keeper, had told him that in the Old Legends there was a time when people traveled through the Ocean all the time; one day that had stopped, the reason no one knew, and the knowledge of the way to travel had been lost. That was long ago, before the Greatest Tree had been born, before the Biting River had found its way from a creek bed in the mountain to reach the wide plains of the people. No one had traveled through the Great Mystic Ocean since.

Except for him.

He had only vague recollections of that day. For a long time right after his arrival he had had nightmares that he could never relay to his new family, but in time the nightmares had left him alone. Now, so many years later, he could only recall small snatches; otherwise, he had what Torga-lana had told him about his nightmares and that was all. Stories and fragments of distant memories about where he had come from, who he might have been once. He had given them his name, a name that was more important than life to him, and the memory of a beautiful woman with long brown hair and eyes the color of the sea. He could remember her smile, hear her laugh in the very corners of his mind. Sometimes, when the West Wind blew warm and friendly through flowers, he was sure she was whispering to him even now, though he knew she was very far away and no longer drew breath to her body.

Tonight he could feel her watching him from the Other World. She had told him to come here tonight to seek communion with the Spirits, a command Kalasana had confirmed. He didn't know the reason but he knew to obey her advise. The beautiful woman had never once led him astray, and he had faith she would not this night. So he had come just before sundown and built his small fire, made a pitcher of cool tea and caught a nice prairie bird for his dinner. Then he had settled in to commune with the winds and the flowers, the birds and the creatures of the ground. He had settled in to wait.

Now dawn was edging closer, the beauty of the Night Mother starting to grow pale as the Father of Day began his journey into the heavens. Not long now and He would begin showering his warmth and life down on all things, giving nourishment to that which would one day nourish the bodies of his faithful children. Once Father arrived he would need to go back to the village again, to perform his duties to his family and the clan; but if the beautiful woman said, tonight he would return to his vigil.

The night had been mostly peaceful. He had listened to the crickets and cicadas sing their songs and had watched as a large white night bird hunted the mice of the meadow. At one point a small pack of laughing dogs cavorted across the plain, chattering to each other in their high-pitched ways, making him laugh at their antics. They must have been young, he thought, and recently well-fed, to be so casual in their travel, less hunting than playing; they had reminded him of the children of the tribe after a harvest feast or the return of a successful hunting party. And now, for the last few hours, all the world had seemed to be sleeping but for himself, blissfully silent and at complete peace.

He waited a bit longer, until the Father of Day had begun his ascent, casting his long arms over the landscape and chasing the Night Mother into her hiding place. When the warmth of the Father touched his cheek he smothered his small fire and collected his things, preparing to return to the tribe.

Suddenly he felt a rumbling and heard the sound of thunder. His eyes turned to the circle of the Great Mystic Ocean, amazed to see the color of fire appearing at the points. When seven lights had appeared, the Ocean spit forth a wide white wave before settling into a beautiful shimmering spanse just as Torga-lana had described from the day it bore him to her. Fear consumed him momentarily, wondering if the beautiful woman meant him to step through the Ocean once again; however, she had never mentioned any such thing and he was loath to make such a decision without guidance from the Spirits.

He watched in amazement for a long while as the Ocean glimmered in the rising sun, and then his eyes widened as two figures tumbled through. They rolled down the steps that lead to the Great Ocean and collapsed onto the grass, both looking up to the Ocean as it winked out of existence again. The two figures frozen in place on the ground, looking up at the now-empty ring which had given them birth.

Now he understood. He had been sent to greet his new brothers.

***

"Shit."

JD rolled over at the muttered word, and his eyes quickly found the Stargate. The now closed Stargate. It took a moment for it to sink in that they had actually fallen right through the wormhole.

His first trip through the gate, and he had been too busy throwing punches to really notice.

"That was... uh..." The guy JD still thought of as Major Donovan was staring at the big ring, his jaw practically in his lap. JD had to grin; in all the time the guy had been on base, he probably had never actually witnessed a true gate activation. After all, Hammond made a point of being at every embarkation and arrival possible, and when he wasn't available either Brigadier General Drudge or Colonel Giabene was on hand. Since the intruder would not have risked an encounter with any of three men who were said to know every face on base, he would never have had the opportunity to be in the observation room during any gate activation.

And on his first real view of it, he had gone through it.

"What a rush, huh?" JD said, unable to contain his enthusiasm. "Cold, but that's apparently only the first few times until your body adjusts to the experience. Sam said it took about five times before she adjusted to it."

"Uh-huh," the man replied, simply staring. JD chuckled; he had never gotten to see someone's response to their first gate trip before. Obviously, all earth people had their reactions off-world, he had never seen one of their visitors arriving on their first time either. It was kind of cool.

"You okay?" The man turned his head to him, green eyes blinking rather owlishly. JD marveled at how funny it was that the man he had looked upon as the epitome of smooth confidence and assurance currently looked like he had been smacked in the face with a flying pie. "You feeling any upset stomach or headache, anything like that?" All those conversations with Sam, having her redescribe her experiences over and over, were coming to fruition as he checked his own physical being and that of his unintentional companion. "Hey, you okay?"

"Uh... yeah, I guess." The man shook himself, visibly pulling himself together. "How about you?"

"I'm fine," JD shrugged. He watched as the man's hand moved to his stomach and touched delicately. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that."

The man's expression shifted slightly, confused for a moment before following JD's gaze to his stomach. He then looked up with a slightly sheepish grin. "No you're not," he said wryly. "Nor should you be. You were doing you level best to capture me and defend your position." The man rubbed his bruises gently. "Though I wouldn't have argued if you had missed a few more times. That's a mean left jab you've got going."

"I've been taking boxing lessons from Colonel O'Neill," JD grinned. He leaned back and looked around. "I can't believe we actually fell through the gate! This is incredible!"

"Uh, okay," the man said. "I suppose if it delays my arrest and summary execution, I'll agree with you. But shouldn't we go back? I mean, no offense, but the coordinates I had the computer dial were one of those uncharted planets you were talking about, so we have no idea how safe this place is."

"PXA-460," JD nodded. "And while you're right on us having no idea how safe this place is, we can't go back."

"I see a DHD," the man said, glancing at the stone device off to the right.

"Guess no one ever explained to you about GDOs, huh?" JD sighed as he leaned back in the grass. "The Earth Stargate has an Iris made of pure titanium; when closed, it is less than three micrometers from the event horizon. If we don't transmit an accepted code through the wormhole prior to going through, the SGC will close the iris and deny us access." JD made a face. "Splat. Bug on a windshield."

"Ouch." The man leaned back on his elbows. "So, any ideas?"

"Wait here," JD shrugged. "They'll send someone through to get us. I mean, Jack's gonna want to ring your neck personally, and Hammond's gonna want to know who you work for."

"You don't think I'm in this alone?"

"Nah, you don't seem the type," JD shrugged.

The man cocked his head, frowning. "The type?"

"The stuff you were collecting, the information... it's not really anything that in individual or a private company could make use of," JD said. "I figure you have to be working for the NID."

"NID?"

"Probably Maybourne's division," JD nodded. "Little worm. They want control of the Stargate program. We had a thing a while back where Sam's team rescued a bunch of people from an advance civilization whose planet suffered volcanic destruction. Maybourne got them transferred to his authority so he could lock them away and use them for forced intellectual labor; he wanted to force them to make new weapons.. After that Hammond overhauled the entire security set-up at the base to make sure Maybourne and his people couldn't get any information without his approval - or at least knowledge."

"What good will all this information do Maybourne anyway?" the man asked. "I mean, all I found was stuff he already knew about how the system operates, and a lot of stuff on archeological finds. I can understand them wanting me to set up the remote hacking devices so they can keep an eye on anything you might bring back in the future, but Maybourne made such a stink about getting copies of Doctor Jackson's and Captain Carter's investigation notes... I don't get that."

"Well, Sam's done tons of studies on the science of the gate itself, but the NID has access to all of that," JD said, thinking. "As for Doctor Jackson...I can't think of anything right now, but I bet he can." The young man looked carefully at his companion. "You realize if you go back you'll be arrested as a threat to national security."

"Yes, I know." The man studied him carefully. "Just curiously, why would you warn me of such a thing?"

JD shrugged. "Well, you're a thief and a liar, but you don't seem like that bad a guy. I mean, the whole time I was taking you out, you didn't throw more than five punches total. You weren't doing anything but trying to get away from me, when you could have cleaned my clock and made a clean get-away. You went out of your way to avoid hurting me." JD frowned. "How come?"

The fake major sighed. "Look, kid, I'm a professional hacker and a con artist, and in general make my livelihood by taking things that don't belong to me. But I make a point not to harm innocent people unless they deliberately give me the opportunity. If you chose to sit down at a poker table with me, I wouldn't hesitate to clean you out completely. If you were dumb enough to open your home to me, I'd pocket your watches and rings without hesitation. But this was you following orders, just doing your job. I was a senior officer - well, so you thought, anyway - and you followed your military training to the letter. It felt... kinda cheap taking advantage of you. I'm not proud of it."

The man chuckled to himself. "God help me, I feel bad about the fact that my actions could get you in trouble. You're smart and talented; you've got a real future ahead of you." The man gave JD a fond appraisal. "I like you, kid." The man looked away quickly. "Of course, if you repeat that to anyone I'll use my evil genius to clean out your bank account and erase your school records. Instead of being a half-semester from your Masters degree in astrophysics and a few more to computer engineering you'll have barely passed high school with a C minus average."

JD grinned. "Got it." JD climbed to his feet and watched as the other man did the same. "Well, it will probably take at least an hour for them to retrieve the dialing coordinates from the computer, put together a retrieval team, send a MALP through for the standard recon prelim, and then send through the full team." He glanced at the sky. "From the looks of it, it's just after dawn here. We might as well find a place to get comfortable and wait."

"You're probably right," the man agreed. "Probably out of the sun would be a good idea. We don't know how hot this place can get, or if the UV rays are more or less dangerous than on Earth."

JD nodded and looked around. "Those trees over there will probably do. Like I said, it should only be an hour or so." He glanced at his companion, who indicated his agreement, and they started walking towards the shade. "By the way, what should I call you? I mean, no offense, but I'm not about to continue calling you Major Donovan."

"Hm, point. Why don't you call me Ezra? It's as good as any of my other names."

***

"Davis just confirmed the coordinates," Daniel said as he hurried into the locker room. Jack looked up from lacing his boots with a raised eyebrow. "Apparently the program Donovan ran buried them only one layer under the usual system information, so it didn't take long. Are we ready to go?"

"Just about," Jack nodded. "Hammond's agreed to let Chris' team join us, so Josiah went to get Doctor Jackson."

"Josiah's gone to get me?" Daniel asked slowly, causing Jack to chuckle. For such a brilliant man, sometimes Daniel was amusingly slow on the uptake.

"Nathan Jackson," Buck Wilmington said from the far corner as he adjusted his gun clip. "The doc from the hospital."

"Chris has offered him a position on SG-7," Jack explained. "Once he and Josiah get here we'll be ready to go."

"A medical doctor on a field team?" Daniel asked. "I mean, I'm all for the medics having more field experience, but as a permanent part of a team? I mean... is Larabee that dangerous a leader?"

Jack exchanged a merry look with Buck. "Well, that's a question too loaded to cover accurately in the span of five minutes. But the fast answer is no. Jackson also has active military experience. The combination could prove useful in certain circumstances."

Daniel nodded just as Chris entered the room with Sam. "We're ready to go as soon as Josiah and Nathan get here," Chris said. "The MALP sent back clear readings of a lovely morning on an arid plain similar to Nebraska or Kansas. Long flat grasslands, moderate temperatures, good breathing air, Earth-style atmosphere and radiation levels. Should be a cakewalk."

"I've got their packs ready, so they just need to suit up and we're gone," Buck replied. "What's the plan?"

"The MALP didn't show them in the immediate vicinity of the gate," Sam said, obviously displeased with that fact.

"They probably just moved to a more secure location," Jack countered. "Sam, I know the kid's never done any field work, but he's been dropping hints for months now. If I know your cousin, he's committed to memory every ounce of tactical strategy ever discussed in class, manual or mission briefing."

"Yeah, he's probably just got himself to a defendable position in case of hostiles," Buck agreed. "I'm sure he's fine."

Sam nodded reluctantly, wavering between belief and worry. The men around her exchanged glances, and Jack watched as Buck stepped over to her. The big man said something low and quiet that he couldn't hear... something that caused the worry to lessen in Sam's eyes. Whatever it was, for that Jack was grateful.

It was less than twenty minutes later that they were standing in the gate room as the vortex flashed out toward them. Having never seen it before, both Buck and Josiah were wide-eyed with astonishment; their most experienced teammates were only a touch less so. Jack found himself smiling at their expressions, knowing he still wore it himself from time to time.

"That never gets old," he murmured to Sam, who despite her concerns grinned back at him. It was like seeing a gorgeous sunset or the majesty of the mountains all over again; some things just were amazing every single time.

"You're right about that," Daniel said over his shoulder. Jack caught the anticipation in the linguist's eyes, and chuckled.

"Alright kids, let's go," he said briskly, stepping up to take point. Out of habit, Chris Larabee stepped right next to him, which caused Jack to grin. Chris was as natural a leader as they came, and couldn't help but take the reigns no matter who else was around. "Buck, Josiah, remember to breathe out before stepping through."

"You're natural instinct when you step out on the other side will be to inhale," Sam explained. "If you don't have any room to take air in to, it will be kind of uncomfortable."

"You're also gonna be a bit cold," Chris added. "First couple of times, it's a little like jumping into the ocean in January."

"We'll leave the lights on, boys and girls," Hammond said from the control room. "Bring them home safely."

"That's the plan, sir," Jack nodded. He glanced at Chris with a wry grin. "Age before beauty, Larabee?"

"I'll agree to that," Chris chuckled. "Go ahead, I'll be right behind you."

Jack snorted and rolled his eyes, then stepped through the gate.



** Pt4 **

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